


Like a Bad News Cycle

by keepingsecrets



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Prompt Fic, revenge of the editor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-28
Updated: 2010-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepingsecrets/pseuds/keepingsecrets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Someone</i> had to keep the reporters in line. Or try to anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Bad News Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Barnabas Cuffe has a thing for the latest reporter at Daily Prophet, Rita Skeeter."
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me and I'm making no money from this endeavor.
> 
> A/N: I know the prompt is more for a romantic thing, but I'm sorry, I just can't write Rita in a fluffy story.

Rita Skeeter.

It was a name he had hoped never to hear again.

In the span of one horrible year, that woman managed to increase his circulation by ten percent, only to send it all to hell. While she was riding the high of being assigned the Triwizard Tournament, she seduced the wrong people in his staff and in the Ministry. While his staff went at each other's throats to make sure that they were the last person standing in the fight for the right of being Rita's fuck buddy, Rita managed to slip sensitive personal information into one of her articles. Just as Barnabus managed to calm down the last of the lust-crazed idiots, the issue hit stands, and within an hour, he had some very upset Ministry officials coming down on his head. He had no choice but to fire her -- and good riddance about that -- so she in turn proceeded to wreck his perfectly fine marriage in a fit of pique.

That his ex-wife believed the lies that vile woman spewed as easily as she breathed probably should have clued him into the fact that his marriage wasn't nearly as idyllic as he had thought. It wasn't his fault his job as the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet meant long hours.  _Someone_  had to keep the damn reporters in line.

_Or try to anyway._

He rubbed his aching temples. For seven blessed years, he hadn't had to deal with Rita bloody Skeeter. And now, here was her application for the position of political affairs junior reporter. By her qualifications, he couldn't turn her down, and refusing to hire her because she was a soulless succubus-harpy with no sense of morality or shame wasn't exactly likely to go over well.

He really didn't want to go through another divorce. Not with Rosmerta pregnant with their first child. Not with Christmas just around the corner.

_So how to get rid of Skeeter without actually getting refusing to hire her…_

His eyes flitted over his cluttered desk, searching for inspiration, when the sports section caught his attention. Ginevera Potter's latest article on the upheaval within Ballycastle Bats glared back up at him. It was a good piece of writing, much to his relief. Their last Quidditch reporter had been utter shite at reporting more than just the matches.

_Wait. Potter. Triwizard Tournament._

A slow smile spread across his worn features.

If he remembered the gossip correctly, Harry Potter had been furious about the articles Rita Skeeter had published about him and his friends during the Triwizard Tournament. If he, or his fiery tempered wife, caught wind that Rita Skeeter was angling for a job at the Prophet, one or both of them were liable to scare the woman off themselves.

Getting up from his seat, Barnabus walked out of his office and paused by his assistant's desk. "Ask Ginny Potter if she would come up for a minute." He placed Skeeter's application on the edge of his assistant's desk, where Potter was very likely to see it. "I'll be finishing up the morning's owls, so knock before you send her in."

"Yes, sir."

Barnabus turned on his heel and walked back into his office, whistling a merry tune.  _It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas…_


End file.
